The boy nodded and settled into his seat.
"Please hold your questions until our guest completes his talk," Margaret said to her class. She turned to the speaker. "You may continue, Mr. Baker."
"Thank you," David said. He faced the class. "As Miss Doyle said at the beginning, I am from Long Beach, California. That is a city on the coast about twenty miles south of Los Angeles. How many of you have heard of Long Beach?"
Nearly a dozen hands went up.
"I'm impressed. Many people haven't heard of Long Beach. Still others confuse it with Los Angeles or towns named Long Beach in other states. There is a Long Beach, New York, for example, and I believe a Long Beach, Mississippi . . ."
For the next thirty-five minutes, David told students in Chattanooga, Tennessee, about a city and a state they had not seen and might never see. He talked about California's geography and history and even its climate. He talked about anything and everything except the very things the students wanted to hear.
That all changed at ten to three. Tired of seeing bored faces and bleary eyes, David figuratively turned over the microphone and opened things up. He asked the students if they had any questions for him. As it turned out, they had plenty. Several hands flew up when the invitation went out. David called first on a chubby boy in back.
"Mr. Baker?"
"Yes?"
"Have you ever gone surfing?"
David chuckled.
"As a matter of fact, I have. I went surfing for the first time last summer at a place called Laguna Beach. It didn't end well."
Several students laughed. Then another hand went up.
"Mr. Baker?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know any movie stars?"
"No."
"Have you met any?"
"No."
"Do you like any?"
"No."
David smiled and shook his head as the class erupted in laughter. By answering three questions succinctly and honestly, he had livened up what had been a dry discussion.
Feeling pretty good about himself, he decided to keep things going. He invited another question and this time called on a red-haired girl. Freckles got right to the point.
"Mr. Baker?"
"Yes?
"Are California girls pretty?"
David smiled.
"Yes. They are pretty."
"Are they prettier than girls in Tennessee?"
More people laughed.
David laughed too. Then he wondered what he should do. Should he answer the question diplomatically? Should he answer it at all? He turned to Margaret for guidance but got little in return. She gave him a "you're on your own" smile.
David returned to Freckles.
"Are they prettier? No. Though California girls are very pretty, they are not prettier than the ones in Tennessee. In fact, they are not even close."
Every boy hooted and smiled. Every girl swooned. With one shameless, timely answer, David had won over a skeptical crowd. He let the good feeling in the room marinate for a moment and then called on a blonde with a bow in her hair.
"Mr. Baker?"
"Yes?"
"Do you like Miss Doyle?"
Several girls giggled.
David blushed and smiled. Talk about a torpedo. He tried to think of an answer, but he could only think of the question. He appealed again to Margaret — again to no avail. When he looked at the teacher in the corner, he saw a woman turn fifty shades of red.
David returned to his questioner.
"Yes, young lady, I like Miss Doyle. She is a very capable teacher and one of the nicest people I have ever met. I hope you like her too."
"The blonde started to respond but stopped when a deafening bell, the last of the day, rang in the hallway. Within seconds, the girl, the other interrogators, and every other student in the room gathered their belongings. They exited the room the second Margaret Doyle, blushing teacher, gave them permission to do so.
Many of the students greeted David on their way out. Some thanked him for his talk. One said she hoped he would remain in Chattanooga. All left the room smiling.
"Well, that was fun," David said.
Margaret smiled and sighed.
"I apologize for letting the class get out of hand."
"There's no need to apologize. I had fun, they had fun, and we all learned something," David said. "I know I did."
"What is that?"
"I learned to never open a discussion to questions."
Margaret laughed.
"Did my students get the best of you?"
"They did with the last question," David said.
Margaret smiled but did not reply. She instead gathered some papers, put them away, and pulled a sweater off her chair. She put on the garment, walked across the room, and spoke to David when she met him at the door.
"Thank you for coming today."
"It was my pleasure," David said. "May I walk you home?"
Margaret nodded.
"I would like that."
David smiled warmly.
"Shall we go?"
"I guess we should," Margaret said.
David stepped back and motioned toward the door.
"After you."
Margaret flipped off the overhead lights and then turned to face her special guest. She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity before finally resuming the conversation.
"David?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for answering the last question diplomatically."
"You're welcome."
Margaret took a deep breath.
"David?"
"Yes?"
"Did you answer the question truthfully?"
"Yeah," David said. He smiled. "I did."
CHAPTER 27: CLAIRE
Friday, May 4, 1945
For the thirty-first time in thirty-six days, Claire Rasmussen stepped out of her house, walked to her mailbox, and looked inside. For the first time in thirty-six days, she found something waiting. Someone, somewhere had sent a time traveler a letter.
She pulled the letter from the box, shut the door, and walked back toward the house. As she did, she examined the envelope, the postmark, and the writing on front. Geoffrey and Jeanette Bell, it seemed, were kicking up their heels in Buenos Aires.
Claire entered the house and made a beeline for the dining area, where Ron enjoyed a cup of coffee, David read the newspaper, and Hannah sat up in her wooden high chair and stuffed her face with Cheerios. She smiled when she entered the room.
"We have mail," Claire said.
David lowered his paper.
"We have what?"
"We have a letter from the Bells," Claire said. "They sent us a letter from Argentina on April 10. I guess they went to South America first and are working their way back."
Ron put down his coffee cup.
"Let's see it."
Claire handed Ron the envelope, took a seat at the table, and attended to Her Highness. She laughed when Hannah threw a piece of cereal on the floor.
"Are you feeling rebellious today?" Claire asked.
Hannah answered with a giggle.
Claire kissed her daughter on the cheek and then waited for the letter to make the rounds. After Ron passed it to David and David passed it to her, she gave the item one last inspection and looked at her male relatives.
"Shall I do the honors?" Claire asked.
Ron nodded.
"You fetched the letter."
"All right then," Claire said. "Here we go."
Lacking a letter opener for her first letter in 1945, Claire reached for the next best thing — a clean butter knife on the table. As it turned out, she didn't need the knife at all. The envelope had barely been sealed.
Claire inserted a finger under the flap, ran it the length of the seal, and opened the envelope. She pulled out a single tri-folded sheet of hotel stationery, flipped it open, and gave it a scan. She needed only seconds to see that Geoffrey had written the letter.
"
Shall I read it out loud?" Claire asked.
"You might as well," David said. He smiled. "We need the drama."
Claire scolded her brother with a smile and then returned to the letter. She read its contents silently and then aloud for all to hear.
Dear fellow travelers:
We hope this letter finds you well. Jeanette and I think of you often and wonder whether your mission has been a success. We hope it has. We look forward to seeing your new addition and comparing notes from our respective travels. Jeanette and I expect to remain in Argentina another three weeks and then proceed to other countries. If you need to contact us for any reason, send letters to the U.S. embassies in San José, Managua, and Mexico City. We intend to visit each of those venues as we work our way north toward Los Angeles and our rendezvous on September 27. Until we meet again, be safe and take care.
Geoffrey and Jeanette
When she finished reading the letter, Claire placed it on the table and then looked at her husband and her brother. She could see concern in their eyes.
"There is no way we can contact them before they get to Costa Rica," Claire said. "That means we are on our own until July and maybe August."
Ron rubbed his chin.
"Do you think they are still in Argentina?"
"No," Claire said. "I'm sure they left a few days ago, just as Geoffrey said they would. Where they are now is anyone's guess."
"We have to find that rock," David said.
"Yes, we do."
David got up from his chair.
"I'm going to look for it now. I don't like sitting around doing nothing. If I can find it this weekend, we might be able to skip the whole boot camp thing and just get out of here."
Claire nodded.
"I'll help you look later."
"OK," David said. "See you."
Claire watched with concern as David stepped away from the table, kissed Hannah on the head, and marched out of the room. She winced when she heard the front door slam.
"It's eating him up," Claire said.
Ron clasped his wife's hand.
"We'll manage."
"I hope so," Claire said. "David and I both expected to find the crystal. We thought we would be able to reach the Bells before you left for camp. Now it appears we may not be able to reach them at all."
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"We'll manage," Ron said.
"You're awfully calm for a man headed to war."
"I'm not headed to war, Claire. I'm headed to Chicago. I'm headed to a training center where I will be perfectly fine. You've heard David. You've heard him many times. By the time I leave boot camp, the war will be all but over."
"I know," Claire said. "I'm still nervous. I have a right to be nervous."
Ron tightened his hold on her hand.
"Yes, you do. Now do me a favor and channel that restless energy into our daughter. I will feel much better knowing that my girls are doing well."
Claire put a hand to Ron's face.
"I love you."
Ron leaned forward and gave his wife a soft kiss.
"I love you too," Ron said. Then he leaned back in his chair. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to run to the courthouse to file some papers. I have a sentence to complete."
CHAPTER 28: MARGARET
Monday, May 7, 1945
Margaret watched with interest, fascination, and more than a little amusement as the man across the street walked through his yard in a search pattern. She did not know what he was looking for or why, but she figured the object was important. Most people did not hope to step on something with their bare feet unless it was.
She sipped some sweet tea, placed her glass on a small table, and continued to watch the man from her porch swing. When her curiosity finally overwhelmed her reserve, she leaned forward in the swing, cupped her hands, and shouted at her neighbor.
"What are you doing?"
David stopped, looked across the street, and smiled.
"I'm looking for a rock."
"Is it valuable?" Margaret asked.
"You might say that."
"Then come over and tell me about it."
David laughed.
"Maybe I should."
"Please do," Margaret said. "I could use a good story."
"OK. Give me a minute."
"There's no hurry."
David walked to the steps of his porch, retrieved a pair of shoes, and put them on. A moment later, he checked his mailbox, crossed the street, and moved briskly toward Margaret's porch. He offered a sheepish smile as he approached his nosy neighbor.
"How long have you been watching me?" David asked.
Margaret laughed.
"I don't know. I haven't kept track of the time. How long have you been traipsing in your front yard in your bare feet?"
David chuckled.
"You don't want to know."
Margaret got up from the swing when David stepped onto the porch. She could see he was not only flustered and embarrassed but also tired and perhaps preoccupied.
"Would you like some tea?" Margaret asked.
"No, thank you," David said. "I just had some."
"Then at least join me on the swing. I'd love to talk."
"All right."
Margaret returned to the swing and slid to one side, the side near the table, to make room for her visitor. She resumed their conversation when he sat next to her.
"Your rock must be important."
"It is," David said.
"What does it look like?" Margaret asked.
"It's clear, like a diamond, and about the size and length of a pinky."
"Is it a diamond?"
David shook his head.
"It's a gypsum crystal."
"Why is it important?" Margaret asked.
David paused for a moment, as if thinking of a reply, and then looked at his neighbor with thoughtful eyes. He didn't seem eager to answer the question.
"It's a lucky charm I've had since I was ten," David said. "I take it with me whenever I travel to distant places. I lost it a month ago and haven't seen it since."
"Are you sure it's in your front yard?"
"No. I'm not sure at all. It could be anywhere between here and Tanner's Grocery. I lost it one night when I went to the store for ice cream."
"Do you need help finding it?" Margaret asked.
"No. I think I can manage."
"Let me know if you change your mind. I would be happy to assist. I could use a pleasant diversion after the day I had at school."
"What happened at school?" David asked.
"Two of my students got in a fight. They argued in the hallway over a girl and then settled their differences with fists. We had to suspend both of them."
"I can relate to that."
"I'm sure you can," Margaret said. "I'm beginning to think that fighting is as much a part of high school as math and civics. We've had several fights this semester alone."
"Look at the bright side. Summer is coming. School is almost out. It won't be long before these boys take their fights to streets and alleys."
"We don't want fights there either. They solve as much as fights in schools. Just ask your brother-in-law. I'm sure he has a lot to say on the matter."
"He does," David said.
Margaret lifted her glass from the table, sipped some tea, and gazed at the street. She could not believe how unjust the world could be. She pondered the difficulties facing Ron and Claire, put down her glass, and turned again to David.
"How is he? How is Ron?"
David took a breath.
"He's doing all right, under the circumstances."
"Claire filled me in on his legal situation," Margaret said. "She said Ron pled guilty to the charges to escape prison. She said the judge gave him the option of serving in the Navy."
"Then you know the important stuff."
"When does he leave?"
"He hasn't decided," David said. "He wants to stay here, with us, as
long as he can, but he doesn't want to risk arriving late to camp. He has to be in boot camp Friday night. My guess is that he'll leave Thursday on the four-fifteen train to Chicago."
"Well, for what it's worth, I don't think he should have to leave at all. He should be rewarded for saving that man, not punished."
"I agree."
"I just hope he doesn't get drawn into the fighting," Margaret said. "I know how hard it is to wait helplessly while your loved ones are in harm's way."
"He'll be fine."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I just can," David said.
Margaret looked at her neighbor with skeptical eyes. She couldn't understand how anyone could be so confident about the prospects for peace after several years of war.
"You amaze me," Margaret said.
David smiled.
"Why? Because I look for rocks in my yard with my bare feet?"
Margaret laughed.
"That's one reason. The other is because you say and do things that other men don't. You're an interesting man, David Baker."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should," Margaret said. "It was meant as one."
"Thank you."
Margaret returned to her tea and gazed once again at the street. As she did, she debated asking this interesting man a question that had been on her mind for five weeks. She mulled the matter for a moment and finally decided to ask the question. She saw nothing wrong with pursuing information in an honest and gentle way.
"David?"
"Yes."
Margaret took a breath and lowered her eyes.
"Do you mind if I ask you a sensitive question?"
"I don't mind at all," David said. "What do you want to know?"
Margaret lifted her eyes.
"Why are you not in the military?"
"Does it surprise you I'm not?"
"Yes. It does," Margaret said. "You appear to be healthy. You are certainly educated and intelligent. Why are you not serving your country like millions of other men?"
David did not answer the pointed question right away. He paused for a moment, as if formulating an answer in his mind, and then looked at Margaret with thoughtful eyes.
"I'm not in the military because I have a heart murmur. I've had it since at least the seventh grade. It's something I have to watch closely."
Hannah's Moon (American Journey Book 5) Page 12